There were dreams once upon a time, dreams now all but forgotten. On sad days I dust them off and fondle them nostalgically, with a patronizing wonder at the naivete of the youth who dreamed them.

My favorite sport is female and my favorite food is beer.

The people come from everywhere, from five hundred miles, to find their fortunes. By fortune is an ugly, two-faced goddess. When you have lived with her handiwork for half a generation, you hardly notice anymore. You forget that this is not the way life has to be. You cease to marvel at just how much evil man con conjure by existing.

Every ounce of my cynicism is supported by historical precedent.

Consistency is the sign of a narrow mind.

I'm an incurable romantic. The essence of romance is an unshakable conviction that next time will be different.

I guess I suffer from an impoverishment of the sociopathic spirit necessary to go big time.